how could i not?
by teamginger
Summary: im so sorry
1. Chapter 1

Every girl at Midtown Science likes to think that she has a chance with the esteemed Spider-Man. They see what he does for others, how selfless he is, how heroic he is. They see the funny, charismatic, idolized version of the person who I know. But again, everyone who meets him thinks they really know Spider-Man. How lucky they think they are, to have his attention for a fleeting a moment, so rare and enchanting.

No one notices Peter Parker. He's quiet, minds his own business, and besides, who wants to waste their time with someone who's so riddled with grief that they can't even show up to dates sometimes because he feels too vulnerable? Some would, thinking they could help him, thinking they could "cure him" of his grief. Wanting to be so special that he comes out of a deep depression just to be with them. Others wouldn't bother, too focused on themselves to possibly help him. So where does that leave me?

I noticed Peter long before he tried asking me out. How could I not notice the second best student in our shared science class? But it never occurred to me that I noticed him in a romantic way until he asked me out after getting suspended. After that, all I could think of was Peter. What kinds of things did he like? How long had he been wanting to ask me out for? I eventually found all these answers, and many more. He had admired me from afar for at least a year, never finding a chance to speak with me until I stuck up for him when Flash was bullying him. He liked photography, skateboarding, and also swinging from incredible heights in a spandex, skin-tight red and blue suit. I guess you could say I knew Spider-Man inside and out.

So how does that set me apart from the other girls at Midtown Science? I do love Spider-Man, but I also love Peter Parker. If they knew his secret, they would love him too, but not in the way that he needs. He needs someone strong, who can point out when he is wrong, who can convince him that what he's doing is right. He needs someone who would stay up all night watching the news to make sure that he's alright, who is constantly ready to clean him up when the fighting gets especially rough. I provide that for him.

It may seem at first that he's the only one benefitting from our complicated, on and off relationship. I don't _need _him the way he needs me, but I couldn't imagine living without his constant attention, his quirky personality, or his unshakable loyalty. He can understand me in a way that no one else can, because of Spider-Man. Because he invested so much trust in me, risked so much to be with me, how could I not reciprocate that?

And I guess that's how I wound up here, free falling inside the clock tower. I think of my graduation speech, and realize that all along, everything had been leading up to this anyways. My father made Peter promise to stay away from me, but he couldn't possibly. I got a scholarship to Oxford, I was going to live my dreams, and maybe Peter could have been a part of it, but some things are just too good to be true.


	2. Chapter 2

After the funeral, the number of people who came to visit Gwen dwindled to single-digit numbers within a week. Of course, everyone was affected by her death, I couldn't help but feel like they couldn't possibly care as much as I do. I make time, even when there isn't any, because Gwen and I had lost so much time together, and there wasn't enough to save her in the end. Perhaps that's why I'm more obsessed with visiting her- I feel responsible.

"Hey Gwen," I say in the friendliest tone that I can manage as I sit on the ground in front of her headstone. She never says anything anymore, but talking to her makes her feel close. The air feels suddenly stiff and I feel my throat tighten. "I've been working on something."

I take off my backpack and pull out a bouquet of flowers. I don't have to search for their broken remains amongst my Spider-Man suit anymore- it's been in my closet ever since the night she died. This time, they are perfectly unscathed from the bumpy bus ride. With a trembling hand, I set them on the ground close to her headstone, and read over her name. And then again, and again. I read her name enough times so that even if I close my eyes, her name in that horribly serious font that doesn't suit Gwen at all. Unfortunately, there isn't a huge variety of fonts to choose from when it comes to gravestones, which is something I didn't know until I spent most of my free time visiting my girlfriend in a graveyard.

I think of what could've been, as I often do when I come here. Gwen should be in England, living her dreams, and leaving her mark on the world. Maybe I would have gone with her, and we would have been together, and she would be safe. Instead, she lies underground.

I can hear her voice in my head, asking me how often I had watched her from the tops of buildings. To make sure that she's safe.

"I come by once a day, Gwen," I say, lowering my eyes as I think of how animated she was that night. I think of all of our ground rules, and wonder if they still would've applied. "Sometimes more."


End file.
